by R. C. Lewis
“Minali, I had an idea about the conduits.”
Her startled expression fades, smoothing to a curious one. “What kind of idea?”
“The old portals are still out there, right? It’s been ages since anyone studied them, centuries at least, and even then, we didn’t have the technology to really understand them. Like you said, barely enough to model the conduits after them. But maybe now we do. And if we do, maybe we can figure out what’s going wrong with the conduits, and how my brothers got trapped. Come at the problem from the side instead of head-on.”
“That’s good thinking. I’ll get—”
“Simulation complete,” the computer interrupts. “Summary: eighty-two percent chance of success under Variant A. Thirty-three percent chance—”
“Pause results,” Minali says. “Tell me more, Liddi.”
On the surface, it makes sense that she stopped the computer to be polite and hear out my idea. But a moment of clarity slices through the cloud of worry and helplessness that’s been surrounding me. That clarity punches right to my gut and says no. Says there’s something tiny in Minali’s face that I don’t like. Microexpressions…Ciro studied them so he’d have a better idea who to trust, with all the people wanting to use our family to their advantage, and particularly regarding some of the girls Anton dated.
“What are you working on?” I ask, forcing curiosity into my voice rather than accusation.
“Just a few theories, nothing solid.”
No, that’s a lie. I glance at the wallscreens, which she hasn’t bothered to blank. Each shows a waveform I’m not familiar with, though they all look related. Something at the corners catches my eye. Identifier icons. I recognize all eight. They’re my brothers’.
“Explain it to me,” I insist. “You have something about my brothers.”
“Just some readings on the conduits.”
“But you’ve isolated waveforms for each of them. Do you think you can use those to locate them? And you ran a simulation—on what?”
“Random ideas, a bit complicated. I really am busy, Liddi.”
She probably is, but I’m tired of being put off, tired of being told to wait, that I’ll understand later. “Computer, resume results summary and disable pause.”
Minali glares—there’s a familiar impatience in it—but I just listen. The computer details the results of the simulation. She was right about the complexity. I don’t understand all of it, but I get the idea.
And I don’t like the idea I’m getting.
“Conclusion: hyperdimensional stabilizing using biological catalyst remains feasible with multi-stage implementation. Stage one complete. Time to stage four completion is forty-five days, with levels of success greatest for Variants A, F, and C.”
A cold void forms inside me, numbing everything. The simulation has projected possible results of an experiment…an experiment that’s already in progress. “My brothers are the ‘biological catalyst,’ aren’t they? What have you done?”
Minali smacks a workstation with her palm, sending me back a step. No mere microexpressions now. Her eyes are bright with panic. “You don’t understand. First your brothers, now you. The conduits are failing. The Seven Points won’t survive if they do. Without resources from the other Points, Sampati will crumble, and without leadership from Neta, the others will fall to chaos. Not one of the planets can survive alone, not without being set back centuries, even a millennium.”
Yes, the conduits’ failing is a problem, but this is wrong. Minali’s wrong, something’s sick or broken in her mind if she thinks sealing people inside is the solution. “So you trap my brothers? Even if that made any kind of sense—which it does not—they’re our best chance at fixing everything!”
“No, they’re not. They refused to acknowledge what it’ll take, refused to move forward and act. And you…nothing ever goes right with you, does it? Computer, execute primary contingency.”
I have no idea what that means until a column of blue light shines on me, and then it’s too late. The computer emits a signal calibrated precisely to my brain waves, and everything goes black.
Liddi’s plastic robot man needed to climb to the top of Metal Mountain, but he was only one inch tall. He’d need help. So she took the blocks from the tub in the corner and started building a tower with steps. Robot-Man was good at climbing steps.
“Garrin, can you get me the schematics for the conduits?” Mr. Jantzen said. “I have a few thoughts.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Liddi’s fingers slipped, knocking one of the blocks off-balance, and the noise drew her father to the other side of the desk. “Liddi, I said you could play in my office. You don’t need to bother Garrin.”
“But Walker-Man’s desk is better, Daddy,” she protested. “Yours is bumpy.” She couldn’t easily brace her tower against the wooden carvings on her father’s desk.
“It’s no bother, Mr. Jantzen,” Garrin said. “And you’re busy. I can keep an eye on her.”
“All right. If she gets in the way, send her in. Durant will be by to pick her up this afternoon.”
Once Jantzen disappeared back into his office, Garrin peered over the edge of the desk at Liddi. “Nice tower. Try adding a few more blocks to the bottom before you start building higher.”
EVERY CELL IN MY BODY ACHES, and I’m not surprised. That’s a side effect of the neural incapacitator. There’s a sharper pain and tightness somewhere on my neck, and again where my shoulder blades and hips rest against a hard surface. I open my eyes, knowing I won’t like what I see.
I’m laid out on a metallic table surrounded by computer displays and other equipment. It’s a lab, but not the same one I was in before. The aches make it difficult to even think about moving, but it doesn’t matter. All I have to do is tell the computer to contact the police. Or the media. Or everyone on the whole planet and beyond. I don’t get further than opening my mouth.
“You’d better not do that.” Minali, standing in the blind spot behind me, of course. I open my mouth again, but she keeps going. “No, really. I’ve implanted a device near your larynx, and I’m activating it right now. Programmed with internal voice-recognition and a hyperdimensional transmitter. A pulse will be sent through the conduit substrata, one specifically calibrated to disrupt the pattern cohesion of any living beings inside…not that you understand any of that. All you need to know is if you speak, your brothers die.”
My hand goes to my throat. There’s no mark—she healed the incision perfectly—but I can make out a tiny, hard lump under the surface that shouldn’t be there. It explains the odd tight feeling. The cold void inside me hits new depths beyond freezing, the emptiness echoing in my ears. Her footsteps approach, and I reflexively force myself off the table onto shaky legs.
“I’d really rather not kill them,” she says. “Conduit stabilization is a bit more certain if they remain alive. So please, mouth shut.”
I look around at the equipment—next to useless without being able to use voice commands. Minali stands between me and the door. All I can do is glare, so I do it the very best I can.
“You have to understand, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, Liddi,” she says. “If those incompetent mercenaries had done their job and gotten you implanted days ago, we wouldn’t have all this attention pointed here. They were supposed to hold you at least until the Tech Reveal. You wouldn’t have been harmed; I just needed you out of the way until I’m finished. The mystery of your kidnapping and your brothers’ coinciding disappearance would’ve been a perfect distraction. Then again, you gave me a reason to get more people collecting data on the conduits, letting me run the simulation sooner, so there’s that. But I need time. Stabilizing the conduits, it’s like constructing a fifty-story building from the ground up, knowing each girder is laced with explosives. I can’t do it overnight.”
The tightness near my voice box intensifies alongside my urge to speak, to rage until that perverse look of regret is burned from her face. Sh
e sent those men with guns into my house, then acted all concerned and helpful when I dragged myself into Pinnacle. The knowledge pulses through me, making it difficult not to scream.
Something else she said is more important, though. Minali needs me out of the way for a while, at least until the Tech Reveal. The only threat I’ve posed is in trying to rescue my brothers, so maybe that means doing so is still possible. Before the Reveal. Before “stage four completion.” The computer said that’s forty-five days away.
The kidnapping ruse might’ve worked, but she’s lost all claim on sanity if she thinks she can get away with this. I try to figure out how to say so without saying anything and spot a computer display that’s already running the right subroutine. Minali tries to cut me off when I step toward it, but I hold up my hand, rolling my eyes in an attempt to convey I’m not going to do anything. Then I scroll through icons on the touchscreen until I find the one for a popular media-cast. I tap it and get exactly what I expected—vids of me walking through the city barefoot, interwoven with studio commentators.
“We still have no idea exactly why the Jantzen girl arrived in such a state.”
“No, reports out of JTI have been less than informative. An unspecified ‘minor’ emergency, nothing to worry about? Come on, JTI, it’s not that ‘minor’ if she’s shredding a new Igara skirt.”
“The Jantzen boys are all off-Point and reportedly unavailable for comment. We contacted Reb Vester to see if he had news on his girlfriend, and even he doesn’t know what’s going on.”
I hold back a growl at that last bit—Reb only wishes we were dating, because gorgeous or not, he’s been hit in the head by too many laserballs for my liking. I point at the display as it switches to vids of me at various parties and raise my eyebrows at Minali.
“Ah, you think your sudden silence will tip off the media? Liddi, after all these years, surely you know how easy it is to spin. With your brothers attending to pressing matters off-Point, you’re finally taking a more serious, substantial role in the company. You’re ignoring the media because they’re a distraction.”
This passes beyond madness. I want to explode, to scream, or at least to break Minali’s neck, but I can’t. Not without endangering my brothers further. Instead, I mime stabbing myself and shrug.
“Why not just kill you?”
I nod.
“Your brothers will serve their purpose alive or dead—the simulation results just look better if they’re alive. Killing you, however, isn’t an option. I can’t have those useless thinkers on Tarix getting control of the company.”
Oh, right, the implant I got when my parents died. I didn’t understand until years later when the boys explained. A safety measure for an inheritor not yet of age, just a simple thing that does nothing but monitor my vital signs and send a signal to Tarix if they cease.
But I remember something else, too. My brothers have similar implants. Not with my priority level, but they have them. Maybe I can use that. Maybe I can find the monitoring codes for them. Maybe a lot of things, but none of it while I stand here listening to this null-skull who’s attacked my family.
“Liddi, stop,” she says warningly. “I see the plotting in your eyes. This has to be done to save the Seven Points. I know you don’t understand what we’re facing, and that’s not your fault. Your parents put a check on your genes to ensure you wouldn’t be as smart as your brothers, so you would still need their help. If you ask me, it was cruel of them, but there’s nothing for it now, is there?”
Checked genes. Not as smart. The words echo and ricochet in my head, leaving dents and gouges in their wake, trailing down into my lungs so I can’t breathe. But my parents couldn’t have done that. They wouldn’t have.
Then again…All these years with no debut at the Tech Reveal, never meeting my family’s standard, hitting a thousand walls with every attempt…
I miss Minali saying something, but it’s not to me. One of the company drivers is at the door to take me home.
I look to Minali, but she spares me the barest glance before returning her attention to the console. Like I’m beneath her notice now that I have no way to threaten her. There’s nothing I can do.
“Officer Svarta cleared the grounds and tightened security measures on the perimeter of the country estate, so you won’t need that noisy security-cam anymore. You’ll be safe there now.”
I bet. I bet I’ll be as safe as a caged dog. Those men weren’t meant to kill me, after all. Just to hold me hostage until it was too late to save my brothers, until they were locked in as a permanent part of the conduit infrastructure. Maybe Minali even had elaborate plans for “rescuing” me, and I’d have been too grateful to question whatever tragic story she gave for my brothers’ demise. Even the botched kidnapping didn’t matter, though. I came running straight to her with my theories about my brothers, full of naive trust.
I’m an idiot. Checked genes is right.
The driver either knows I can’t talk or isn’t inclined to make conversation. Whatever the reason, the ride home is silent except for the faint hum of the car’s hover-struts.
Tears don’t make much noise.
Everything on the outside of the house looks completely normal. The door is on its hinges, no windows are broken, and even the flowers are tidy. I remember the noise of the attack. I expected more destruction, but Minali must’ve had it repaired.
“Welcome home, Liddi,” Dom says as I walk in. “Has there been a change to your schedule? I could update it if you like.”
The tears press harder, and the pressure to cry out becomes unbearable, but the tiny extra weight at my throat reminds me I can’t. I can’t use my voice, and I can’t respond to Dom.
Dom figures out after three more tries that I’m not going to talk. Still achey and tired from the neural incapacitator, I curl up in bed, hoping the silence won’t suffocate me in my sleep.
“Liddi, do I assume correctly that you don’t wish to hear the usual messages in your queue?” Dom asks two days later.
I tap the icon for Yes and stare at the otherwise blank screen.
“Very well. One new message has just come in that doesn’t fit the ‘usual.’ Would you like to hear that one?”
Yes again. Why not?
“Liddi, it’s Garrin. I’m not buying Blake’s story about you taking some ‘quiet time.’ Something’s wrong. Holding back the truth about your brothers’ disappearance is the wrong move—we need all the eyes possible looking for them. Get back to me. I can help.”
A nice sentiment, but I can’t record a message back to him, and I can’t get into the city to see him without Minali knowing it. I can’t just sit and do nothing either, though, so I don’t. Unfortunately, doing anything using just the iconographic interface takes forever. All the computer networks have been voice-activated for ages now, with the touchscreens mostly for quick jumping between subroutines. Good thing Dom is such a smart system. He makes up a few new icons and tells me what they mean, hoping to help me get where I’m going. When that’s too much, I draw pictures for him to decipher, and he uses the in-house cams to watch my gestures.
“Your refusal to speak does make things inefficient,” he says after the fourth wrong try in a row. “And my flexibility regarding icons is limited. But I suspect the information you seek isn’t relevant to the databases I have access to.”
Relevant databases. There’s something Marek told me. Something he joked about. “Those archivists on Tarix are so afraid of losing everything obscure, they don’t realize they lost their minds centuries ago.”
Archivists and historians and philosophers. “Useless thinkers,” Minali called them. Useless to her, maybe. But they have the collected history and knowledge of the Seven Points, including everything ever dreamed up by the technologists on Sampati. If someone ever knew more about the portals and we forgot, the information would still be there somewhere. Maybe I could find the connection my gut tells me I’m missing between the old portals and the way the cond
uits work. And even if the people on Tarix don’t have my brothers’ monitoring codes, they might have details on the implants themselves. That would be a starting point.
If I can figure out a way to communicate and access their systems…but maybe they’ll have something for that, too.
Even then, what makes me think I can figure it out? Checked genes, the only non-smart Jantzen in history. A waste of all the energy put into building me up. Hopeless and pointless…
I shake off the creeping doubts. It doesn’t matter. Trying is what matters, because my brothers have always expected my best effort. It’s all they’ve ever asked of me. Besides, if my parents set control of the company to pass to Tarix if something happened to me, they must have trusted some people there. If I can find those people, if I can make them understand, I’ll get the help I need.
But there’s no way I can go to a conduit terminal and ask them to send me to Tarix. Even if I could talk, Minali will have all the terminals monitored by more attendants than usual.
If you found a portal high, if you found a portal low…
So I guess I’ll have to find one.
I pull up the blank screen to draw on and sketch out the icon of the Seven Points. Seven interlocking circles in a partial ring, lines joining their centers, with a web in the middle and flames through the gap at the top.
“The Seven Points,” Dom says.
I nod and lock the drawing, then point to the web in the middle.
“The hyperdimensional conduits interconnecting the worlds of the Seven Points, used for near-instantaneous travel between—”
I shake my head. After a moment of thought, I delete pieces of the lines forming the web and lower their contrast, making them faded and broken.
It takes Dom a full five seconds to make a guess. “The ancient portals originally serving the purpose now fulfilled by the conduits.” When I nod, he continues. “Would you like the complete compilation of data or a summary?”
